


Son of the Void

by AnnaFuchs



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Child Neglect, Childhood Memories, Childhood Trauma, Everybody Lives, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parties, Sigurd centered, Teen Angst, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:00:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24407677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaFuchs/pseuds/AnnaFuchs
Summary: As long as he could remember, Sigurd Lothbrok was never loved. His heart was a hollow land with only ashes to console him. There was a deep dark hole within him and no future to look forward to. He wasn't happy, he wasn't strong, he was alone and hurting.
Relationships: Aslaug/Ragnar Lothbrok, Bjorn/Thorunn (Vikings), Gyda/Halfdan, Lagertha/Ragnar Lothbrok
Kudos: 9





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hii!   
> Okay? 
> 
> Soooo this is my first fic in English and since it's quite far from my mother tongue, I hope you'll forgive me and inform me of potential mistakes because I would very much like to write better. 
> 
> Also, it's Sigurd centered, as you already might've guessed, since I believe his character had a great potential though I also understand why he had to be killed in the show. 
> 
> It's modern setting to make things easier, so Thorunn never left, has a beautiful daughter Siggy with Bjorn, Lagertha is an awesome ex wife of very much confused Ragnar (who deals weapons or something similar, idk), Ubbe and Hvitserk are great sons and friends with Bjorn and Aslaug turned into a cold bitch over the years. Also, Gyda lives and is about to marry Halfdan because he's a good boy and Bjorn's fam. Ivar is handicapped and also might be on an Asperger's syndrom scale, but I'm not sure about that, I only know that my brother is (although he's never been properly diagnosed) and it can make you behave like a total bitch towards some people. 
> 
> I'm not sure anyone will be interested in this, so continuation of this story is mostly up to y'all. 
> 
> I would also like to state that I am not in any way a psychologist and the development of a neglected child in this fic is based only on what I've heard and read. 
> 
> Enjoy the prologue and let me know what you think.

As long as he could remember, Sigurd Lothbrok was never loved by his mother. Aslaug, living in her own world which contained mainly of her youngest son Ivar and an unhealthy amounts of wine, was always distraught and most of the time ignored her second youngest. Sigurd knew that handicapped Ivar needed extra attention and special care, as his older siblings and father often reminded him when he became too upset with neglect from his mother, but why exactly did Aslaug manage to completely forget about him was beyond his understanding. As a result, Sigurd became utterly lonely in the fragile age of thirteen when Hvitserk enrolled in college like Ubbe two years before. 

Though he had a few friends and hobbies, mother's love and attention, so desperately needed from a child, completely escaped him and left only a hole and void from which the darkest thoughts always streamed, especially in the dark of the night, when he lied still on his bed and wondered what it was like to be loved. 

He didn't hate his younger brother, not initially. Their childhood was filled with joy and playing, Ubbe and Hvitserk almost never left him behind, even though they were older. His father Ragnar loved all his children equally and wanted them all to grow up to be strong and happy. His older brothers have had their share of parents' love and as father started to take them on bussiness trips, they made peace with their not so loving mother as they remembered her before Ivar was born. 

But, unlike Ubbe and Hvitserk, Sigurd didn't have any memories of motherly love and too soon he lost his father when the wild world of bussiness and power swept him away. He started to fail in school, make enemies of his classmates and later on, he's been repeatedly arrested for minor offences. But his mother never cared. A slap on a cheek or harsh words were only interactions he achieved. They never had troubles with money, so the windows and noses he broke were always silently paid for. 

Then Ivar grew up to be spoiled, Aslaug let him do anything he desired, never reprimanded him and on the occasions he and Sigurd would get into fight (for Ivar's lower half of the body was almost non-functioning but his upper half made up twice for the strenght), she would always scream at Sigurd and coddle Ivar in her arms, overprotective, no matter who's fault it was or who ended up more injured. Ivar started to be heavily offensive towards Sigurd and never forgot to remind him he was unloved and all in all a failure. He became malicious and wicked. One night Sigurd reluctantly realised that he, in fact, hated Ivar.


	2. School and Birthday Parties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A closer look at Sigurd's everyday life, a best friend and family issues.

Sigurd was born with a medical condition called synechia which made one of his pupils look an unnatural way and prevented it from dilating properly. For its longish look it earned him a nickname Snake-in-the-eye amongst his brothers when he was very young and for some time he loved it. That was, until one classmate of his learned about it when they were around nine and somewhat badass nickname  
turned into a swearword. 

-

"Hey, Snake-eye!"

Sigurd slowly turned around on his bench and raised an eyebrow. 

"What?" he spat. 

"Did you know your brother slept with that crazy whore? What was her name again... Ah, Margrethe!" Evan mocked. He was one of those people that never stopped nagging and Sigurd was a very popular target for his quick temper. 

"And what does it have to do with me?" Sigurd retorted, too tired for fighting. 

"I just wondered... Maybe you have a taste for mad in your family. Maybe you fucked her too. But then again... Not even her could ever like you, right?" Sigurd felt his tiredness leave him and make place for rising anger as Evan slowly leaned in and whispered last words into his ear. "'Cause nobody ever liked you, Sigurd."

An image of Ivar taunting him flashed before his eyes and before anybody knew what was happening, Sigurd had the taller boy pressed hard against the cafeteria wall, a fork in his hand, hovering right in front of Evan's wide open blue eye. 

The sounds melted into background hum as he held his hand on his throat harshly. 

"Don't you ever. Dare. Mock. My. Family. Again!" Sigurd finished with slamming Evan's head into the wall and finally let him go as he felt hands grab him from behind. Evan immediately slumped to the ground. 

"Sigurd, calm the fuck down!" yelled a girl's voice in his ear and he finally snapped back into reality. 

"Sorry, Thora..." he said meekly as he turned around to face his best friend. The girl was around his height, strawberry blonde hair tied in a messy bun, accusing hazel eyes staring right into his. 

"Come. I think lunch is over for now," she said as she looked around at the gathered crowd and a supervisor making his way towards the commotion. 

They disappeared through the door and found a quiet spot at the bleachers around the track round. Thora ate her sandwich in silence while Sigurd promptly picked at his, not really hungry. It seemed he was never hungry in the past years and his physique was starting to show it. Instead, he threw the food in a bin and lighted a cigarette from a pack he stole from his mother. 

"What did he say this time?" Thora asked and stopped eating to observe her younger friend's behavior. She was in the year above and therefore seventeen at the moment. She knew Sigurd for a few years now, since they both had the same guitar teacher. 

"Something about Margrethe and Hvitserk... That he slept with her?"

"Oh..." Thora made a disgusted face. "That fucking slut," she mumbled. 

Sigurd chuckled. It was no secret to him that Thora has had a tiny crush on his older brother for a while now. She was too reasonable to act on it though and he was grateful. Not that he wouldn't wish her well, he was just too scared to lose one of the only friends (if not the only one) he had. 

"He also said that we have a taste for insane people in our family."

"Well, duh," Thora snorted. "Why else would your dad stick with your mother and Ivar?" 

Sigurd smiled a little at her antics. He wouldn't let anyone else talk like this about his family, but Thora was different. She could as well be his older sister by now. Like Gyda. But Gyda wasn't really that present in his life, like Bjorn, for they might have the same father but their mothers were very different and most family meetings tended to have a very suffocating atmosphere for it. He loved Bjorn and Gyda though, he even liked Lagertha, their mother. She seemed to be ten times more capable and better mother then Aslaug. Sometimes he thought Lagertha liked him more than his own mother ever did. 

"True," he answered quietly. Thora took another bite of her vegan sandwich. 

"What's your next class?" she asked. 

"Uhh... It's art, I think."

"Good. That might cheer you up," she stated and stood at the ringing of a bell. "Come on, don't just sit around. It's Friday and we are going to a party tonight, mister Lothbrok."

"A party? What party?" 

"You'll see. Five o'clock, my home. Don't be late or I'll take your good eye and make it a birthday present for Ivar."

"Oh, he'd be ecstatic!" Sigurd laughed. 

"I know and we don't wanna give him that pleasure, do we?"

-

5:09. Oh well. He might leave this house with his deformed eye only. What a shame, he thought ironically as he rang the bell. 

"Hello, Sigurd. Thora's up in her room." 

"Thanks, sir." Sigurd tried to be polite only to people he respected and Thora's father was one of the very few. 

He quickly ran up the stairs to the room he knew almost as well as his own. As he entered, he took a moment to take in his surroundings. He always noticed when something was different or new. 

A queen sized bed in the center, desk with a laptop, a record player Thora was obssessed with which was now playing The Siouxsie and the Banshees, a large carpet, a tiny wooden statue of Buddha with a scent candle next to it, small lights across a board with photographs... Ah, there it was, Thora updated some of the polaroid pics. 

He quickly closed the distance between him and the board and studied the new ones. There was a pic with her cat called Satyr who was sleeping peacefully on the bed right now, some scenery pics from the last vacation, members of her family, her last birthday party... And, finally, there were two new pics with him. 

In the first one, he was sitting on a rock in the summer sun, facing the photographer and next to him was Thora, trying to hide her face in her hands, her hair, freshly cut in a long bob, messy and falling over her face. His own curly hair was no less a mess and shone brightly. They were both clearly laughing and having a good time. He remembered the day very well - the picture was taken two months ago on one of the last days of summer when they went on a hike in the mountains with some of Thora's friends. It wasn't really a fixed friend group, but they were nice people and Sigurd kind of liked all of them. 

The second picture that contained him was that from Ubbe's birthday party in September. In it, Thora stood between him and Hvitserk with Ubbe to the right of Sigurd. They held champagne glasses and seemed like they were having a good time. But the picture was clearly cropped. Sigurd knew who stood next to Hvitserk when it was taken. It was Ivar and even though Thora only wished to have a picture taken with the older brothers, she didn't dare object Ivar's presence. He would make a scene, Aslaug would know about it and Thora couldn't come to their house to hang out anymore. 

That, though, didn't prevent the next events from happening when Ivar started taunting Sigurd like always. He tried, he really tried to stay calm, for Ubbe's sake. But when Ivar started saying about how pretty a bitch Thora was and that he would take her and Sigurd would have to find another whore to fuck, ignoring Ubbe's and Hvitserk's warnings, Sigurd snapped and punched Ivar. That was a fatal mistake, for Ivar then proceeded to take a sharp knife used to cut meat and threw it at Sigurd, missing his right, the misshapen eye, only by milimetres, leaving a deep cut along his brow and forehead as he tried to dodge it. The whole party was left in shock, Thora leaving with tears in her eyes, Hvitserk going after to console her. The rest of the evening was a mixture of Ubbe's car taking him to a nearby hospital to stitch the wound, then returning only for Sigurd to find a bottle of whisky, a quiet spot in the attic of their house and drinking himself to oblivion. 

Thora later said how Hvitserk acted as a gentleman when he calmed her and took her home on his moped, being happy for the outcome, but the memory was forever ruined for Sigurd. 

"Hey, lets prepare a bit," called out a voice behind him and he found Thora in her underwear, holding a dress in hand as she checked herself in a mirror. It would maybe be considered too much for friends to see each other like this, but Thora knew a secret about Sigurd that made it a little bit more okay. 

"What do you have in mind?" he asked with a smile, already knowing the answer.

Thora reached a hand behind the large mirror and dug out almost half empty vodka that she held out to him triumphantly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first chapter, because I can't let the prologue be the only thing here. Kudos and feedback very much appreciated.


End file.
